


Not Safe For Work

by blancafic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anticipation, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fitz is a Terrible Dom, Fluff and Smut, Jemma is a Tease, Light Bondage, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 02:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blancafic/pseuds/blancafic
Summary: After three months of dating, Jemma wants to spice things up. Fitz tries to turn the tables on her, but she's not about to give in so easily. That's it. That's the story.





	Not Safe For Work

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a conversation with LibbyWeasley, who was surprised to learn I hadn't written any FitzSimmons smut. I took it as a challenge. And now I can say I've done it.
> 
> Speaking of Libby, she has my endless gratitude for her beta help and encouragement while I was working on this. Honestly, I was a little rusty and nervous about the whole thing and I couldn't have done it without her. There's a reason she handles all the explicit chapters when we're writing together.

It took him until nearly lunchtime to notice, but once he did, it was all he could think about. 

Jemma was wearing a striking pencil skirt and blazer combo, which should have been the first clue something was up. Her voluntary professional upgrade to the base's dress code aside, she rarely wore skirts. But he had attributed it to the impending arrival of the mysterious new director and her plan to impress him into giving her a position of authority. He couldn't bring himself to accept anyone but Coulson in that position, and didn't have it in him to suck up anyway, so he mostly kept his head down and supported Jemma's efforts. And it was hard to argue when her efforts involved her coming to work looking like that.

But today she wasn't paying attention to anyone but him. She kept coming over to his desk with flimsy excuses, like borrowing a pen when she had plenty at her own desk, or showing him some schematics on a tablet he'd already studied in detail. Each time she'd lean over a little further, pressing her breasts into his shoulder or bending over the workbench, perfectly shaped arse in the air. It was during one of these intentionally provocative gestures that he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath that tight skirt and all the blood in his head rushed southwards.

He didn't make a habit of admiring her undeniably appealing physical attributes while they were at work. It wasn't conducive to his productivity and focus, as today had soundly proven. They had agreed soon after they got together that they would keep everything professional and above board while on the job. Sure, there was the occasional make-out session in the server room or light touches as they crossed in and out of each other's workspace, but for the most part they'd managed so far to kept their bedroom activities separate and private. So what was this teasing all about, then?

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Agent May to check on the progress of the new training program. 

"You want to try it out?" he asked, a note of pride creeping into his voice. 

"I just want to know if it works," she said.

"It works," he assured her, trying not to sound defensive. His tech always worked. "I just need make sure the new parameters are calibrated. Let me get . . ."

He opened his desk drawer to retrieve his multimeter and caught a glimpse of familiar black lace tucked in amongst the tools and office supplies. Those definitely didn't belong there. He slammed the drawer shut so fast he nearly caught a finger. 

"I . . . ah . . . You know what? It's not important. Don't really need that. Why don't we go over here."

He stood up, tugging nervously at the waistband of his pants, and ushered a frowning May to the other side of the lab. Along the way, he managed to throw a glare at Jemma who was watching from her workstation and hiding a laugh behind her hand.

Once May was satisfied with the training module and headed back to abuse her strike team some more, he returned to his desk and opened the drawer warily, looking around to make sure no one was watching this time. They were still there. He recognized them as Jemma's from the moment he'd opened it. Good god, had she actually worn these today? He reached his hand in and ran his fingers over the silky black lace. It felt really nice. They probably smelled like her, too.

"Find anything interesting in there?"

He jumped at the sound of Jemma's voice behind him and pulled his hand back as if it had been burned. 

"I think we both know what I found," he said through gritted teeth. He shut the drawer more slowly this time.

"Indeed," she said, nodding her head sagely. "And have you determined the origin of that particular sample?"

"I have," he confirmed. "Though I believe further testing is in order, just to be sure."

She gave him a seductive smile, yet kept her tone professional. "Oh, I agree. Always best to be thorough."

His body was keen to respond to the signals she'd been sending with an affirmative answer. "I've uh . . . got some time right now if you—"

She straightened her spine and spoke at a cheery clip. "Unfortunately, I have back-to-back meetings all afternoon."

He could practically hear the record scratch noise in his head. "Wait. What?"

It was like all the air had been suddenly sucked out of the room. He blinked rapidly at her, hoping he'd misheard.

"I'm off to one right now, in fact," she said, as if she hadn't been mercilessly flirting with him all day. She started gathering her things, barely sparing him a glance. "But I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Dinner? What? But . . . I'm confused. What is happening right now?"

Finally, she looked at him, appraising him from head to toe. "Just a little glimpse of what's to come later."

"There's a word for that, you know," he growled in disapproval.

"It only applies if you don't intend to follow through. Which I most definitely do."

She hugged her meeting materials close to her chest and kissed him on the cheek on her way out the door. All he could do was sit there, frozen and frustrated, staring at her swaying hips as she disappeared into the hallway.

She continued sending him increasingly indecent texts for the rest of the afternoon. 

_Most boring meeting ever. But good for the imagination._

_I'm imagining us together._

_Naked. Skin to skin. I want to touch you._

_And I need you to touch me. To feel you inside me._

_Do you want me, Fitz? Could you take me right now on top of your desk?_

_Hold onto that feeling for me. Ride it until I can ride you tonight._

At the last one, he shut his phone off and threw it across the desk. There had to be a clause somewhere in the Geneva convention prohibiting this.

A few minutes later his phone buzzed again. He knew he shouldn’t look, but reached over to retrieve it anyway, just in case it was work-related. It wasn’t. The screen displayed a revealing picture of Jemma’s cleavage. She must have taken a moment to slip into the ladies’ toilet and aim the camera right down her blouse. And she had apparently chosen a matching lingerie set that morning. The accompanying knickers remained in his drawer, a vicious reminder of his delayed gratification every time he opened it. Somehow he made it through the rest of the day without sneaking away to take matters into his own hands, but just barely, and only because her last message implied he wasn’t supposed to.

At dinner, her behavior was seemingly back to normal as she filled him in on her meetings and speculated about the new director with no sign of the seductress act from earlier in the day. If he didn’t know her better he might have wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing. But the way she was keeping her distance from him was most certainly deliberate, and there was a telltale pinkish tint to her cheeks. She put on a good show, but he could sense she was buzzing just beneath the surface. And besides, he had the proof right there in his phone. He'd revisited it often enough over the past few hours to know without a doubt it had been real.

He followed her lead and kept things on a superficial level until they got back to the room that had only just recently become officially _theirs_. As soon as they were both safely behind closed doors, he turned on her with outstretched arms.

"What the hell, Jemma?"

She batted her eyes and played innocent. "Whatever could you mean?"

"We're alone now. You can drop the act. I just want to know what you were thinking."

She sighed and sat down on the bed. ( _Their_ bed. He would never get over that fact as long as he lived.) He sat down next to her, patiently waiting while she struggled to find the right words to explain. "It's just that . . . Well. We've been dating for three months, now. And while our sex life has been more than satisfactory—"

"More than— Simmons, you wound me," he teased. "I thought we were getting pretty good at it."

"We are! Brilliant, in fact. That's why I thought we could use a little challenge. A little anticipation to add some spice.” She bit her lower lip as her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

"Three months in and you're already bored with me, eh?" he joked, bumping her shoulder with his.

"No! Of course not. I just thought it would be fun to try new things."

"Like taking your knickers off in the lab?"

She squinted. "Yes?"

"And you thought my desk drawer would be a good place to stash them?"

"It was either that or your coat pocket. The whole point was for you to find them unexpectedly. Like a little sexy surprise. Honestly, I just wanted to see what you would do. And you were so adorably flustered."

Laughter bubbled up through her throat. As much as he usually loved the sound, he couldn't join in.

"So it's funny to you, is it? I'm glad you're amused, but I couldn't bloody concentrate on anything else all day."

"Then I'd declare the experiment a success."

"Not fair. It was hard enough being around you when I knew I couldn't have you. But now it's—"

"Even harder?" she suggested, eyebrows raised.

"You are a wicked woman, Jemma Simmons. You know that?"

"Oh, you love it," she said, eyes twinkling.

He shook his head. "I love you. And you're lucky I do, because that was cruel, winding me up like that and then running off to meetings for the rest of the day. And sending me those texts! Christ, Jemma. I was ready to explode."

"Well I'm glad you didn't. Now that we can be together, you don't have to wait any longer."

She grabbed his waistband with both hands to pull him in for a kiss and he almost completely forgot about everything but the feel of her small, cool hands against his skin and her lips on his. Almost. The sting of her torture was still too fresh. She needed to learn that she couldn't just go around playing with him like that. 

He broke away and took her by the hand.

"You said you wanted to try new things, yeah?"

"Fitz. Just because I said—"

He waved her off. "You don't have to—" 

"I really do enjoy having sex with you—"

"I understand. It's fine. I just didn't realize you were so . . . adventurous. It opens up a whole new world of possibilities."

"Oh." Her mouth froze in the shape of the letter "o." He had her attention now. "Is there . . . something you wanted to try?"

"Um. Have you ever . . . been tied up?" She leveled him with a hot, incredulous stare. "I mean, yes. Obviously. Course you have. We both have. But I meant in a playful way. Like, for fun?"

"No one's ever suggested it before. And I guess I never really saw the appeal."

"What about now?"

She shrugged. "If that's what you want, I'd be willing to give it a go." 

He brought out a couple of his old ties from his dresser and handed them to her. She turned them over in her hands, considering their silky texture and tensile strength.

"I thought maybe we could use these. Much nicer than . . . You know what? How about we don't talk about the other times."

She smiled at him. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about I show you?"

She was game. She trusted him completely. It was incredibly arousing, the feeling of power she gave him, but it also made him feel a little bad about what he was about to do. Not enough to abandon his plan, though.

"Lay down on the bed," he ordered. Then he amended in a more gentle tone, "Please."

She smiled and did as she was told, lying on her back, hands at her sides. "Like this?"

"Yes. Now I'm going to take your clothes off, if that's alright."

She laughed. "You don't need to ask, Fitz."

"I know. Just . . . if you're uncomfortable or want to stop, let me know. Okay?"

"Okay."

He unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, slowly revealing the creamy, freckled skin underneath. The semi hard-on he’d been nursing all day became more pronounced and slightly uncomfortable, but he ignored his own needs and continued pulling the fabric away from her, slipping off her sleeves. He tossed the shirt away to one side and moved on to her waist, searching for the zipper to the skirt that had been the source of so much temptation all day. 

"It zips in the back," she said, twisting around so he could reach it. He drew it down gently and was instantly reminded of the lack of anything between the skirt and her bare skin. It quickly joined her blouse on the floor and she was left in only the black lace bra he'd become all too familiar with thanks to her earlier selfie. Fortunately, it fastened in the front. With a twist of the clasp it popped open, allowing her breasts to spill out and rejoice in their freedom. Lastly, he helped her shrug out of the straps and added the bra to the pile of discarded clothing. Suddenly, there she was, the living embodiment of his most forbidden fantasy since he was sixteen.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He was fully hard now, straining against the front of his pants, and he started to wonder if maybe he was in over his head. There was still one important bit of business to take care of. Surely he could resist her seductive spell long enough to have a little fun with her before falling under. He took one of the ties from the nightstand where she'd left them and held it up for her to see.

"Now, I'm going to tie one end of this to the bed and then—"

"I know how it works, Fitz," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up in a playful smile. She raised her arms for him.

"Right. Okay, then. Here goes."

He tied her left wrist first, then her right, snug enough that she felt the tension, but not so tight as to cause any discomfort. She let him maneuver her however he wanted, watching with amused interest, clearly pleased with the outcome of her little game.

Once she was secure, he set to work. 

He started at her feet, using the lightest touch to run his fingers over the tops, steering clear of the most ticklish areas. That would only lighten the mood, and this was no laughing matter. Then, he moved up to her ankles and calves, rubbing them in small circles and lingering when he heard her react with a breath or a moan. When he got to her knees he moved both hands along the inside, gently pulling them apart so he could position himself between her open legs, sitting back on his heels. She looked so amazing he nearly tore his own clothes off so he could take her right there, but he would not be deterred from his mission. 

His hands found their way to her inner thighs and stroked them up and down, stopping just before her glistening entrance. An excellent sign, he thought. He grazed the bones of her hips and the muscles of her flat stomach, deliberately avoiding the places where he knew she wanted him most. 

Even if he wasn't previously aware of how much she craved his touch, it would be evident in the way she lifted her hips to follow his fingers whenever they retreated. But he kept moving up her body, tracing his index finger around the circumferences of each breast, staying just outside the lines as he drew them. Her nipples were stiff little soldiers standing at attention, but he passed them over. Instead, he caressed her collarbone and shoulders with the back of his hand, continuing the path up to her bound wrists.

He noticed her movements becoming jerkier and more desperate, her cries of pleasure taking on a rough edge of frustration. It was time to put the next phase of his plan into motion. He took his hands away from her body once more, but this time he didn't return them.

"Fitz," she pleaded. "Keep going. That feels amazing."

"No," he said simply, palms flat on his thighs.

"No?" She lifted her head to look at him. "What do you mean 'no?'"

He gave her a look of warning. "You’ve been a very naughty girl today, Jemma. And I think you should know what it's like to be mercilessly teased."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"What are you planning on doing?"

"I'm going to make you beg for mercy, beg me to make love to you. And maybe I will, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just get off on the sight of your gorgeous naked body and leave you wanting."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please—"

"That's the spirit," he broke in.

"As if you don't want it as much as I do."

"We'll see."

She was right, of course. He wasn't sure how long he could hold out. But he didn’t want her to know how successful she'd been at getting him worked up today, and just how tenuous his hold on his control was at the moment. He only wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. Once he was convinced she was truly sorry for her actions, he'd give in and give her what they both desired. But not until then.

"What's next then?" Jemma asked. She seemed more excited than worried. That balance would shift soon enough.

He slid out from between her legs and scooted up close enough to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to talk to you."

His voice was deep and husky, and she shivered in response. He was anxious to see if he could make her do it again.

"Talk? That's all?" she rasped.

"Yep. But first . . ." He straightened and slowly started removing his clothes, enjoying the way her eyes followed his hands as they worked the buttons and fabric. He'd noticed before how she liked to watch his hands. Sometimes, especially when he was in the middle of an intricate project, he could feel her staring at them. She'd look away as soon as he glanced up and play it off as if she were interested in whatever he was working on, but he knew it wasn't the machinery that made her blush and stumble. The way her tongue flicked over her bottom lip now as she watched him confirmed it.

Once he was down to his boxers, he lowered himself back down to the bed and settled in near to her head. He leaned down again, keeping his voice low, just as before. This time he thickened his accent a bit, knowing how much she liked hearing it. "There. Now I'm going to tell you everything I'd be doing to you if you weren't such a terrible tease."

"Fitz—" Ah, there it was. There was the note of worry he'd been hoping for. She wriggled against the sheets, trying to get the upper hand by offering him a tempting display. Though he appreciated the view, she didn't count on how much he enjoyed making her squirm. 

"Easy, Jemma. You brought this on yourself." She pursed her lips in an adorable pout, and he let himself indulge in a quick kiss before returning his mouth to her ear, gently running his tongue around the shell. “I’ve been dying to taste you all day. I’d love nothing more than to lick every square inch of your body. And I would pay special attention to all the spots where you like it best.”

She squeezed her thighs together and let out a little agonized moan. Perfect.

“I haven’t been idle these past three months, you know. While you’ve been working your way up the chain of command I’ve been working on a project of my own.”

He smoothed the back of his fingers from her cheek to her chin, down her throat to the valley between her breasts and then off to the side.

“I've been studying your curves. Listening for the little sounds you make when I touch you. Figuring out what turns you on. I already have the privilege of knowing your mind and your heart. Now I’m getting to know your body and it’s fucking incredible, Jemma. You’re incredible.”

He was pretty sure this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He’d intended to tease her, not get all emotional over her. But damn if her sheer perfection didn’t make him want to weep with gratitude that he got to be with her like this. Her complete trust in him was a bigger turn on than he’d expected and it was wearing on his control.

“Do you want to know what I’ve learned?”

She nodded and whispered a strangled, “Show me.”

“Well, you have very sensitive nipples.” He lowered his head and blew out a breath over each of her breasts. “Can you feel this?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“I know,” he said. “I can see the goose flesh on your skin. And when I’m between your thighs, you prefer a bit of scruff to clean shaven.”

He moved over her and positioned his face near her entrance, bracing his hands on her hips. The friction of the bed grinding against his groin sent warm sparks through him, but he forced himself to concentrate on her and the breathtaking sight before him. Her knees were bent, legs spread open, lower lips wet and plump with arousal. She was exquisite.

“Mmm,” he hummed, making sure she could feel the vibrations to her core. “Now, this part of you is most fascinating. So many variables to explore. I could use my fingers, or my mouth. Sometimes you like it fast, sometimes slow. You might enjoy a circular motion, but a little back and forth is good too. The key is variation, to keep you guessing. I love to make you gasp in surprise.”

He looked up and gave her a smug smile, proud of the progress he’d made on his project so far. But she didn’t see it. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying beyond a single recurring suffix. The rapid rise and fall of her chest gave away her increased respiratory rate. Every sign pointed to her being fully stimulated, desperate for him to bring her to completion, but she wasn’t begging for it as he’d hoped. At this rate, he was going to give in way before she did. And soon.

“Jemma?” She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. “Are you reciting the periodic table?”

Caught, she turned pink, the color spreading from her cheeks down to her chest. “Maybe,” she admitted.

His jaw dropped. “Here I am doing my level best to turn you on and you’re thinking about chemistry.”

“That’s just it,” she whined. “You’re doing too well. I’m close. So close I could come with one look from you.”

To his historic dismay he didn’t know the look she meant, much less how to replicate it. He furrowed his brow instead. “So what’s the problem, then?”

“You think I’m going to let you turn the tables on me that easily? You know how competitive I can be.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.” Her face matched the sentiment.

“Oh, you’ll be the death of me all right.” He sighed and pushed himself upright. “It’s not a competition, Jemma. It’s supposed to be enjoyable.”

“And I enjoy competition,” she said simply.

That was the last straw.

“Okay, you know what?” he said, tearing off his boxers in record time. “Enough is enough. I’m just going to do what I’ve wanted to do all day long and fuck my girlfriend senseless.”

“Now you’re talking,” she encouraged. He gave her a sideways glare of warning and her eyes went wide. “There it is. That’s the look. Now, Fitz. Please. No more games.”

It was the closest to begging he was going to get. His cock ached to be inside her and he didn’t see the point in denying either of them any longer. He positioned himself between her legs again, finally allowing himself to revel in the luxurious feel of her body beneath his. With both of them already so close to the edge, he slid easily into her and promptly lost himself in the overwhelming sensation of her slick heat surrounding him, welcoming him, setting his entire world aflame. He continued pistoning in and out of her, devoting the one part of his brain still capable of conscious thought to monitoring her reaction as he drove her higher and higher toward the summit. 

It felt indescribably good. It always felt good with her, but this was on another level. Her body was splayed before him, arms stretched over her head, breasts pressing up as she arched off the bed. Not since their very first time in that hotel room in Bucharest had it felt quite like this. Every nerve ending was heightened, burning brightly with amplified energy. It didn’t take long before she was crying out his name and he felt her shuttering all around him. The tug of his own climax took hold then, as they tumbled over into oblivion together, carried on a blinding, white wave of sheer ecstasy and satisfaction and at last, at last, at last.

Sated and spent, he hadn’t even fully returned to himself when he realized she was still tied up. Despite his weary, protesting limbs, Fitz carefully knelt on the bed and loosened each of the ties, setting her hands free. She rubbed her wrists, which he noticed had become slightly red and raw. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

“Better than,” she assured him as she tugged him back down to the bed so she could snuggle into his side, laying her head on his chest.

For a long time the only sound in the room was their uneven pants as they tried to catch their breath. Curled up together, they stared at the ceiling with unfocused eyes and big, dopey grins. He knew he should probably get up and clean himself off, but he felt like a ragdoll, all floppy, uncoordinated limbs, coming apart at the seams. It had been a long day and he felt like he deserved a bit of rest.

Eventually, her clear voice broke the silence. “Fitz?” 

“Mmm.”

“Maybe next time you should let me be the dominant one.”

He was too exhausted to argue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm @blancasplayground over on tumblr if you ever feel like dropping me a line.


End file.
